A Temporary Lapse of Identity
by stironniganisreal
Summary: Fourteen-year-old Celaena Sardothien is not far from becoming one of the best assassins in Adarlan. But not all ends smoothly after carrying out a task for a client mourning a lost loss. Set in no particular time period of the series. Oneshot.


**This is my first time writing for the Throne of Glass - I literally finished Empire of Storms today. And yes, I am still recovering. But anyway. I thought I'd have a little shot at writing a fanfic for this particular fandom. I hope you like it, since I don't know what the popular fanfics are!**

 **Disclaimer: I am not Sarah J. Maas nor do I own anything in this fanfic**

 **\**

 **\**

Poised in the lurching shadows of a willow, the fourteen-year-old assassin stroked her fingers lovingly across the supple handles of the blades strapped to her hips, her gaze fixated ahead on her target. The wind whispered against her, shifting the heavy hood obscuring the majority of her face from general view, teasing the few tendrils of blonde hair that escaped her hood.

A duchess emerged from an ornate ivory carriage, thick auburn curls clustering around a rosy, heart-shaped face and the breeze nudging gently at the skirts of her powder-blue gown. Celaena Sardothien smiled grimly, but did not rise from the shelter of the willow.

The duchess slowly stepped away from her carriage, two terriers dancing at her side. The townspeople surged forward to greet her, to swathe her in admiration, to pamper the duchess with bouquets and sweets and gifts. For just the day the duchess would spent in this tiny town to the southeast of Rifthold, she would be their celebrity, would be treated as good as a queen. But the duchess was not Celaena's target.

No, it was the young man who followed the duchess out of the ivory carriage, a third terrier at his heels. The man reached for the duchess's hand, and she twined her silk gloved fingers with his, the sickening smile of a lover curling her lips as she spared him a glance.

Celaena was not exactly sure who her client was; not even her master Arobynn had a precise perception of what the client was after. A former lover, another man who had never let go of his affections for the duchess. Celaena concealed a snort as she regarded the glorious couple; normally she wouldn't carry out a task for a reason as petty as unrequited love, but when she had discovered the duchess's newfound lover ran a company of slave ships …

At the very thought, her eyes narrowed, like a displeased feline. Celaena watched as the duchess and her vermin of a swain slowly made their way across the decorated town square. Her bottom lip curled, a leather-gloved hand inching back to rest on the comforting solidity of one of her knives.

Her client had requested that the kill not be a spectacle, but for her to still draw out the life of the slave trader. Celaena wasn't sure to be relieved or sulky about it all. It also left her with the slight dilemma of deliberating on how exactly to take out the duchess's swain …

Yes, there'd be a few slight obstacles - he'd be swarmed with townspeople all day, constantly clawing for his interest and attention, and judging by the smiles the duchess kept sending him, he was on just as short of a leash as the duchess's terriers. But Celaena Sardothien had long been playing this game, and even more notably, in the very heart of Adarlan itself …

Celaena was smiling to herself as she straightened. Dressed in a heavy walnut cloak over sheepskins and loose hessian, her weapons disguised under the drapes of her clothes, she deceptively, easily passed as a humble shepherd's daughter.

As she slipped into the celebrating village, she pushed back her hood, her blonde plaits sliding free over her shoulders. Quick as an eel, she darted into the assembled crowds, forcing joy to brighten her face. She was barely spared a second glance as she slipped through the crowds, slowly weaving her way towards the duchess and her lover …

Her eyes fastened on the slave trader, and despite her pretence, distaste flashed temporarily across Celaena's face before she tucked her external emotions away. Rylan Silverfoot was stocky and weathered by his disgusting line of work, admittedly handsome with broad, symmetrical features and dark hair. Even from her distance, she could see the cold ruthlessness in his steely grey eyes. He wore clothes of the finest quality, in light beige pants, a crisp white dress shirt and a waistcoat coloured to match his lover's gown.

Celaena kept down the nausea, as she contemplated exactly how Rylan Silverfoot had managed to cross paths with the duchess.

Hours passed before Celaena finally grasped an opportunity, late into the night, not long before the bleak greyness of dawn would streak the sky. His duchess had retired, most of the townspeople had gone to bed or passed out drunk from the celebrations - and Celaena trailed Rylan, quiet and sure-footed like a cat stalking a rodent, as he staggered groggily towards his lover's carriage and the beautiful tent that had been erected beside it.

Celaena contemplated exactly how she would kill him. She could slit his throat now and leave his body for the townspeople to stumble across. She could wait until he reached the entry of the tent and send a dagger hurling into his throat from there. Or she could let him crawl into the duchess's tent, and leave a blade embedded in his stomach, so his lover would wake up in the arms of a dead body -

A single memory flashed across Celaena's mind, a reminder so painful enough she immediately squashed that final thought.

Her mind now made up, Celaena quickened her pace towards the slave trader. The anticipation rose in her blood like champagne bubbles; the weight of her selected blade was reassuring in her palm as she neared close to Rylan; at the very last second he turned, his vacant grey-eyed gaze settling on her approaching form -

She struck, slashing at not his throat, but at his face.

Rylan Silverfoot released a string of choice words, none of which Celaena had never heard before, as he staggered back, his hands flying up to his face, the blood already seeping past his meaty fingers.

Such a stupid, _stupid_ move.

Celaena attacked again, this time aiming for his gut. The blade sank into his flesh, red exploding around the hilt. Rylan cried out, blindly swiping in her direction. As swift as a deer, she sprung out of range, and slammed the knife into his thigh.

The slave trader was still drawing raspy breaths as Celaena let him hit the ground, his eyes already rolling up into the back of his skull. She looked down at the drunk with a mix of disgust and contempt, wishing she'd drawn out the slave trader's life a little longer.

But that was that.

Celaena heaved Rylan's body up to the duchess's carriage, the deed of heaving his corpse evoking more exertion than the kill itself had. Then she slipped into the slumbering duchess's tent, barely sparing the soundly asleep woman a glance as she swapped her blood-sprayed cloak for another. This cloak was gorgeous, a flowing cobalt-blue garment with embroidered golden thread in the shape of dragonflies.

Just as Celaena was slipping through the village, her lovely new cloak billowing behind her, she turned the corner - and found one of the few townspeople still awake, staggering around and blubbering drunkenly.

His gaze met Celaena's.

After a long moment of silently regarding each other, the drunk slowly inclined a wobbly, meaty hand and pointed directly at Celaena's face. And slurred a single sentence. A single sentence that sent spears of ivy chills running through Celaena's very core.

"Those Ashryver eyes, haven't seen them in a while."

She did not respond.

A terror unlike anything else Celaena had experienced, not since she was a very small child, completely washed through her, completely overwhelming her. She could not remember to breathe, to will her body to move, to even think. Her mind was blank - save for the echoing words of the drunk.

 _No. No. No_. She would not succumb to the memories, the darkness, the monster chained within her -

Celaena Sardothien ran, and never again returned to the village.

 **/**

 **/**

 **Yup, I know it's pretty crap. But please please please leave a review to tell me what you thought!**


End file.
